Snowball in Morganville
by Erika Okaami
Summary: It ACTUALLY snowed in Morganville, Texas, and Eve and Shane are enjoying a crazy snowball fight. Claire steps in, and someone entirely random gets hit with a snowball. Will this fight get worse?


Okay. Here is something I came up quick that I MIGHT use for the contest. Please tell me what you think!

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**Snowball in Morganville**

"Take this, Collins!" Eve screamed out as she arched her arm back and shot a huge, tightly packed snowball toward the back of Shane's shaggy head. He spun around; just as the white, very cold and frozen substance hit him square in the face. He made an agonizing sound—probably due to how hard the snowball was—and quickly brushed the snow away from his face. Once the frozen water was off his now pink face, Shane gave her the deadliest glare yet.

"Cheap shot, Eve," he growled from the back of his throat as he leaned down to scoop up some snow to pack his own, _harder_ snowball. Eve frozen, and she paled even more with her white makeup. She let out a shrill of laughter, and began running as Shane chased her in the front of the Glass House. Claire just shook her head from the porch, a little amazed at how childish they were acting from the little bit of snow that had produced this December in Morganville. But then again… snow really wasn't common in Texas, so she could understand. A little. Michael—strangely enough—was inside, even though it was decently dark out for him to venture out, without getting burned. He was just being a party pooper.

Claire, deciding to join in on the snowball fight, trotted down the steps to prepare a sneak attack on Shane. She bent down slowly, watching carefully at her two friends screaming, laughing fight as she gathered snow into her snow freezing hands. Once she thought she had it compacted enough, she straightened back up, aimed at Shane, and prayed that she would _actually_ hit. She did. Shane whipped around, and to Claire's horror, he already had another ball of snow in his hand. He grinned, icy white falling down his head as he aimed himself, and chunked the snowball at Claire. She shrieked, and somehow ducked. What a bad idea. What a _really_ bad idea. As she looked back at the Glass House to see where Shane's snowball was going to go, she came to find that Michael had finally decided to leave the home to enter outside. He was standing in the threshold, eyes wide as the ball came at him. He moved in a blur, and was gone. Claire paled at the most _random_ person that was behind him. Amelie. And the snowball exploded as a large mass of white _all over her face_. Everyone defiantly went stiff, and it didn't feel as cold outside as it had before. No one said anything, and she just stood there, _unmoving_, with eyes close. Then, ever so slowly, the vampire raised a pale, elegant hand to brush the snow off of her face. Claire gulped. Oh boy… Shane had better run…

When Amelie's eyes reappeared, they held a near reddish anger that made Claire's heart stop. The woman's eyes moved onto Shane. Claire honestly believed that the Founder was going to kill her boyfriend. But then he eyes returned back to their normal, calm gray. Her attention was on Claire. "Myrnin wanted me to come and wish you a Merry Christmas, and that he would be preparing to—"

Claire fell forward, face flat into the snow, due to a _giant_ snowball that had crashed into her head. She groaned, feeling dizzy and a little black as she used her arms to push herself up. When she looked over her shoulder, there was Myrnin, pointing and laughing like an idiot with a stupid, red, Santa hat on his head. "Ha! I got you, Little Claire! I so, so got you! Now, give me presents, as you children give to this Santa person."

Claire glared at him, and entirely forgot about the other vampire that was _still_ glaring at Shane over the snowball that had hit her in the face. "Myrnin… Santa _gives_ the presents to the kids. You got it all wrong." Myrnin stared at her, blinked, and then made a stubborn noise. "Why would an obese, crazily happy man in my most favorite color of red give his own things to spastic children? Humans and their incompetent ideas for holidays. I must prefer to throw humongous balls of snow at random people. Oh, and, Amelie, my dear, I will warn you that you are next."


End file.
